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Scrolling down my Facebook feed the other day I stumbled on a page of Maine artists.
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I really liked this person’s watercolors.
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And thought they would make wonderful cards.
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Wondering if they sold any, I tried to gain access only to find you couldn’t join the group unless you were an artist.
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I figured I could lie and say yes… cocktail pouring is an art, right?…. but you had to submit samples of your work so that didn’t seem feasible.
Guess the notecards aren’t in my future.
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My SIL called a month or so ago and said she was redecorating a room in her house. Living in Texas makes her homesick, so she asked if I could make copies of some of my father’s Maine paintings and mail them to her.
My late father was the Vice President of a Wall Street brokerage firm who relaxed as a weekend artist. He loved nothing more than sharing his work…. so I happily agreed.
Sadly, my father died a year after he retired and only had a short period of time to paint when we moved from New Jersey to Maine. We were very close, but that particular year was hard for me. It was transitional…. and moving to a rural Island where the only way off was by boat was a huge culture shock for a 15 year old city girl. I was knee deep in silly teenage angst and didn’t spend nearly enough time with him.
Something I will always regret.
So when I started pulling paintings?
I was a wreck.
My father died 41 years ago….
But I cried like it was yesterday.
Grief.
Sometimes it never lets go…..
The next section of the museum was fascinating if you’ve ever been a fan of model ships.
Growing up I had a friend whose father had a passion for it, and while his were lovely….
There were nothing like the ones on display here.
Case after case of fabulous ships.
Even the most famous ship of all.
Complete with icebergs…
There was even a model of a ……
Yeah, I had no clue what it was either.
Anyway you look at it, they were all impressive. But when the docent asked us if we’d been in the masterclass room yet…
I realized there was a whole other level of craftsmanship.
These models?
Were simply works of art.
The detail was almost unbelievable.
I’d never heard of Mr. Crabtree….
But my proverbial hat was off to him.
I can’t even imagine the patience it took to create these beauties.
They were exquisite.
And if that doesn’t knock your socks off?
Oh, come on.
That’s crazy!
Bravo August.
You certainly did that…
As many of you probably know, John F. Kennedy’s family’s compound is in Hyannis… and when you’re there it’s pretty hard to escape the fact. Streets, housing developments, restaurants…. they’re all named for some part of the Kennedy legacy. So we said if you can’t beat em, join em….. and visited the JFK museum.
Unfortunately it was under construction when we visited…
So there won’t be any good exterior shots…
Or good interior shots for that matter because photography was prohibited. I’m not really sure why, as there were very few vintage artifacts to flash damage. And to be honest, the whole place was disappointing. It consisted of multiple rooms filled with large photos, prints and news clippings that I could have just easily researched online. From my couch, in my pajamas. The real museum is in Boston… so my advice? Skip this one and drive to beantown.
Unless you’re in desperate need of some presidential socks…
Which I bootlegged a picture of.
Since it was a beautiful day, we strolled to the harbor next.
Where the husband made friends with a seagull..
Who didn’t seem too pleased with the rules.
Being off season and November, the art shanties were vacant…
But it must be wonderful to walk there in the summer and watch local artists at work.
This time of year the harbor was home to charter and fishing boats.
As most of the tourists have fled for warmer ports.
But it was a pretty spot to watch the ferry come in from Martha’s Vineyard.
And enjoy the day.
Unless you’re a dog walker….
Who apparently have to follow closely behind their pets and strategically aim a saucepan at Fido’s butt.
Good times.
River's world..... 